Welcome to the Neighborhood
by Prisoner Len
Summary: After being kicked out by his parents, Cloud moves to Midgar. Then he meets his neighbors. And he's almost positive that they're stalking him. AU; ASGZC. Oneshot.


Juno was a quiet city—one any city boy would love to live in. Sort of. Alright, that was a complete lie. Juno itself was loud and busy, constantly bustling with activity and traffic jams that seemed to be endless. The sidewalks were disgusting, the people were assholes, and every shop made an attempt to rip you off. The grass in the park wasn't even _green_—it was some weird off-brown-yellow-green-ish color that probably didn't even have a name. Cloud called it vomit-grass, because that was exactly what it looked like—grass that had been eaten, and then thrown up and replanted.

And that was why Cloud Arius Strife had moved from the busy, loud, _obnoxious_ city of Juno, to the less loud, more friendly, and happy city of Midgar. Or suburban Midgar anyway.

Well, that, and his parents kicked him out, and told him to stop being a lazy ass, and go to school.

But really, Cloud made the decision to go on his own. Honestly.

So—with mom and dad's help—he applied to the most prestigious school in Midgar: Shinra University. He got in, of course. Because even though Cloud was a lazy ass and a slob, he wasn't stupid. In fact, he was quite brilliant, and had graduated high school top of his class, thank you very much. _Without_ mom and dad's help, he managed to get everything moved into the house they were paying for him to live in. In six trips using his dad's old pick-up, and one trip to go get his car. He was damn proud of himself. For you see, Cloud Strife had much more shit than he needed; old baseball cards, sports equipment (he didn't even _like_ sports), old games, CDs he never even opened, and various fish bowls from even more various fish. He was a packrat, and he knew it damn well.

His new house looked like something one would see on that show _Hoarders_; there were so many boxes stacked along the walls that there was barely any room to walk—and he honestly had _no_ idea where his couch was. And as he lay on his new living room floor, four boxes full of who-knew-what crushing his lungs, Cloud made a very important decision. He was going to haul all of this shit out into his tiny little driveway, and have a yard sale. Eventually.

The first step was going through it all and finding out what the hell was junk, and what was stuff he actually _needed_. He shoved the boxes off of his chest, gasping for the air he'd been deprived of, and climbed to his feet, rubbing the back of his blonde spikes and looking around his living room. Death by boxes would be just like him. A box toppled off of a stack that probably shouldn't have been touching the ceiling, and he shrugged. He'd start in the kitchen instead.

The kitchen was almost as bad as his living room; he couldn't find his kitchen sink because he'd piled boxes and bags on the counter. He looked out the sliding door leading into his backyard and sighed. It was beautiful out—the birds were singing, flowers were in full bloom, and he _really_ wanted to go swimming. Except he didn't have a pool.

…But dear gods, his neighbor to the right did. And it was huge. It took up half of their enormous backyard. Hell, it was probably twice the side of _his_ yard.

Cloud Strife was officially jealous of the neighbor that he had yet to meet—and probably never _would_ meet, because he was too shy to go over and introduce himself. Though to be perfectly honest, when he was carrying all of those boxes in, he had given a friendly hello to the mailman. But that was more because the mailman was staring at him like he had six heads and would devour him. Cloud may have been gay, but he would _never_ 'devour' that mailman—he was old and crusty looking. He liked older men, yes—but not _crusty_ old men.

Moving in had been a really creepy process; he could _feel_ his new neighbors watching him, and he just knew they were probably going "Look at this idiot in his skinny jeans—is that a lip ring? Oh gross, he has a nose ring, too! Ugh, I can't believe we have this kid for a neighbor, he'll probably piss on our lawns, and"—you get the idea. He could tell just by their unseen gazes that they probably wanted to lynch him for spoiling their super-perfect neighborhood. Sort of. Really, he just assumed.

Sighing, he tugged the sliding door open, letting a fresh mid-summer breeze glide into his kitchen. He turned back around and readied himself to tackle the first box. If he could decide on a box to tackle, that is. He played a game of "eeny-meeny-miney-moe", and headed for the kitchen table, grabbing the first box and heading outside. He had a back deck, why not use it? The backyard was nothing spectacular—a couple of tall maple trees, a wooden fence just a bit shorter than he was between his yard and the two on either side of him. But the grass was _green_, and that fact alone excited him.

He sat down on the back steps of his little house, and set the box next to him. _His_ house. He was pretty psyched—mostly because he could do whatever he wanted _without_ his parents constantly breathing down his neck. The house itself wasn't a whole lot to speak of; it had one bedroom, one bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen, plus the little office in the back that was currently wall-to-wall with boxes. It was light blue, and had white shutters, with a few bushes by the front door. Nothing compared to the more fancy looking houses surrounding him. But it was _his_ house, so he really didn't give a fuck what the ritzy neighbors thought.

He pried the box open, and gave a little squeal of delight; the box he'd picked was full of CDs. He pulled them out one by one, then stuck them all back in, shoved the box to the side, and went to get another box from the kitchen table. He was _not_ getting rid of his CDs; Cloud's parents hated his choice of music—loud, tons of guitar solos, and lyrics that made them cringe—but they weren't around now. That meant Cloud could very well blast the music they hated and he loved oh-so-much. The next box was unceremoniously dropped on the deck and he flinched when he heard the sound of something breaking.

Whoops.

With a groan, he knelt down and pulled the cardboard box open. Nestled inside was his brand new dinnerware, now broken. He pouted down at it; he'd never even been able to eat off of those plates. He shoved it away and headed back in for another box. When he came back out to his deck, he set it down a bit more gently, and opened it up to reveal it was a box full of hoodies. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Figures, the box he didn't drop was full of clothes. He carried it back inside and put it outside of his bedroom door, then headed back out, grabbing the last box from the table. He stepped back outside and pulled the sliding door shut, humming happily to himself.

"Hello."

Cloud dropped the box in surprise, grimacing as he heard something break for the second time that day, and jerked his gaze up. Standing right there on the deck steps in his backyard, was quite possibly the hottest man Cloud had ever seen; he had long silver hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail, and green eyes behind a pair of wire-frame glasses. And he was holding a plate, looking thoroughly unamused.

"Uh… Hi?" Cloud replied, tripping over the box and almost face-planting on his deck in his attempt to get closer. Smooth.

The man was examining Cloud's box of CDs, silver eyebrow hiked high. He turned his gaze back to Cloud and held out the plate. "Angeal told me to bring this over."

The blonde accepted the plate, expression twisted in confusion. "Angeal…?"

"Oh." the man merely murmured, then waved his hand towards the house with the giant pool. "One of my housemates."

"Oh. Uh..." Cloud set the plate—filled with chocolate chip cookies—down on his recently-dropped box, watching as the silver-haired stranger leaned closer to his box of CDs and started flipping through them. "Well, uh… thanks…?"

Piercing green eyes shifted their focus to his face for a split second, and then they were back to the CDs. "Sephiroth."

"Oh." Cloud said again, biting his lower lip. "Uh, I'm Cloud."

And there went the eyebrow again. Sephiroth cocked his head slightly, and regarded Cloud with a frown. For a moment, the blonde thought that he'd somehow angered his new neighbor, and would wake up with his house on fire or something, and—"That's a stupid name." he deadpanned, then pulled a CD out of the box and held it up. "Where did you get this?"

Cloud frowned; he hadn't even been in Midgar for a full day yet, and his new—incredibly hot—neighbor had called his name _stupid_. And was now asking him where he'd gotten a Metallica CD, like he _hadn't_ just mocked his name. "Juno." he snapped with a glare; he didn't give a shit if the man was hot—he was damn rude.

"Huh." Sephiroth murmured, then set the CD back exactly where it was, and shrugged. He gave a half-wave, half-salute to Cloud, then strode back out of the yard.

The blonde waited until he heard his neighbor's door slam shut, then muttered an irritated "Asshole", and brought the plate of cookies inside. He dropped the plate on the table, slammed himself down into a chair, and glared at the cookies. His stomach growled hungrily, and he snatched one of them off of the plate, examining it closely before shoving it into his mouth with a shrug. He scarfed down another one, and was debating dinner when his doorbell rang. And he just sat there with a dumb look on his face because he wasn't even aware he _had_ a doorbell. It rang again and he scrambled through his living room and pulled the door open.

"Hi?" he asked, looking the man on his front step over. He was tall—much taller than Cloud—and had slicked back black hair. And a little beard on the end of his chin. Oh, and he looked like he could snap Cloud in half with one finger. The blonde stared stupidly; was _everyone_ in his neighborhood hot?

"Cloud?" the man questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

The man gave him a charming smile and extended a hand. Cloud hesitantly took it, and they shook hands. "Angeal Hewley. I live next door."

"Oh, you're Angeal?" Cloud blinked; he had half-expected 'Angeal' to be a woman. Sephiroth lived with a man?

"Did Sephiroth stop by?" Angeal asked, tapping his chin and shifting his weight slightly.

Cloud could see the man's muscles through his shirt. He forced his eyes to remain glued to his new neighbor's face, and nodded. "Silver hair, glasses? Yeah. He said my name was stupid."

Angeal heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He rubbed the back of his neck and offered Cloud a frown of his own. "Sorry about that. Seph's, well…"

"An absolute asshole?" Cloud tried, putting a hand on his hip.

The frown deepened, and Angeal narrowed his eyes. "He's not an asshole." He snapped, crossing his arms. Cloud inched back a little, ready to slam the door shut if his neighbor tried to kill him. "He—"

"Angeeeeeal, Genesis is trying to kill me!"

Both men jerked their heads around just in time to see a lanky, well-tanned teen a bit taller than Cloud dash around the fence separating his driveway from the neighbor's, black spikes flying everywhere. He charged for Angeal and latched onto the man's arm, casting a fearful glance back to the house next door and completely ignoring Cloud. Seconds later, a redhead came barreling around the fence as well, stomping across the blonde's front lawn and stopping at the bottom of his steps. The teen inched around Angeal, flinging his arms around the muscular chest and peeking around his arm at the fuming redhead.

"Angeal, he did it again!" the redhead shouted, stomping his foot.

Angeal pried his arms out of the teen's deathgrip and patted the black spikes. "Did _what _again, Genesis?"

"He _painted_ my fucking _toenails_!" 'Genesis' shrieked, pointing at his bare feet.

The teen snorted a laugh out, then quickly covered his mouth and stared in wide-eyed fear. It took all of two seconds for Genesis to launch himself at the teen, and they took off across Cloud's front yard, Angeal close behind.

"Zack, just apologize!" Angeal shouted, holding Genesis by the arms.

"I'm _not_ sorry!" the teen, Zack, screamed, making his way back to Cloud's front steps. He blinked at the blonde in confusion, then broke into a grin. "Hello."

Cloud tried to think of some witty reply, or something snooty, bitchy even—"…Hi."—or just a simple hi. That worked, too. He shifted uncomfortably as the teen came even closer, standing on the doorstep and towering over poor Cloud, staring down at him with bright violet eyes. "…Can I help you?"

Zack abruptly turned around, and screamed across the yard. "Genesis, Sephiroth wasn't lying! He _does_ have a lip ring!"

"Get out! What kind? Is it a stud or is it a loop?" Genesis gasped, squirming in Angeal's grip.

"St—"

_Slam_.

Cloud locked his front door, and stared at it, blue eyes wide. He heard the sound of skin hitting skin, a loud "ouch" from Zack, and peeked through the window in time to see his neighbors walk back around the fence. The next door over slammed shut, and Cloud sank to his floor, slamming his knee into a box. He kicked it, heard a crash, and groaned, burying his face into the palms of his hands.

His neighbors consisted of a muscle-man capable of killing him with a flick of a finger, a spastic teen that apparently liked painting toenails, a redhead with a temper, and a man who _hated_ Cloud's name.

…Cloud's neighbors were insanely hot. Quite literally.

Was it too late to move back home?

* * *

><p>The next day, Cloud found out that it was indeed too late to move back home; no matter how much he begged, whined, cried, and begged some more, the answer was no. He tried bribing, offering to get a job, and even told his mom he'd get rid of the piercings she hated so much. But no, over and over again, the answer was no. No, no, no. Cloud Arius Strife, you moved out there, you got into school, you're not coming back until you finish. He'd even tried the "my neighbors are insane, and I'm afraid they'll kill me in my sleep" routine.<p>

His dad gave him the number of a good psychiatrist in downtown Midgar, told him to take care, and hung up.

He puttered around his house all morning, and most of the afternoon; he went through boxes, he moved boxes, he sat on three boxes and found out they weren't full, thus getting his ass stuck in them, and he ate the rest of Angeal's chocolate chip cookies. Twice, somebody rang his doorbell, and twice, he'd hidden in his bathroom—in the shower, to be exact. One could never be too safe, right?

Come six o'clock, he knew he'd have to leave his house, if only to get the mail. He triple-checked for any signs of his neighbors, then unlocked his door and eased it open. He cast a quick glance towards the fence, then sprinted down his front walk and yanked open his mailbox. He had to be quick, or they might—

"Hello Cloud."

Cloud yelped and his small pile of envelopes tumbled to the ground. Eyes wide, he turned around slowly, and was greeted by Genesis, the redhead from the day before. Blue-green eyes stared into his, and a playful smirk graced the man's features as he examined Cloud's face.

"H-Hello." Cloud squeaked, leaning away from the man. "Uh… Genesis, right?"

The smirk turned into a full-blown grin, and the redhead nodded enthusiastically. He continued to stare at Cloud, and the blonde awkwardly stared back for a few, long, quiet seconds. Then he broke eye contact, gathered up his mail, and took a large step backwards.

"Well…" he started, glancing back at his little house. "Guess I'll be seeing you."

Genesis watched him all the way to the door.

Thoroughly creeped out, Cloud once again locked his front door, and sank to the floor, clutching his mail in a steel vice-like grip. Was this how the rest of his life would be—hiding from his creeper neighbors? Sneaking to and from school, sneaking out to his car to get to the grocery store so he wouldn't starve to death? He hadn't even seen Genesis anywhere—and he was positive he had checked their house, _and_ his front yard.

…And then it hit Cloud like a pile of bricks to the head. Or rather, a box, as one slid off of a pile and slammed right into his noggin.

His neighbors were _watching_ him.

He turned his head slowly to the window next to the door, blue eyes wide. _None_ of his windows had curtains or blinds yet.

…What if they watched him when he _showered_?

His eye was definitely developing a twitch, and he edged away from the window, then sprinted for the office. He flung the door open, threw himself in, and slammed it shut behind him. Rearranging the boxes to cover the window, he opted to sleep in that tiny little office rather than his bedroom. They definitely couldn't watch him there.

Well, he hoped not, at least.

* * *

><p>The next day passed in a similar fashion; Cloud puttered around the tiny little office, unpacked boxes, repacked boxes, set boxes to sell in the living room, and hightailed it back to the office. The stacks of boxes stuffed in random spots around his house (he honestly did not remember putting boxes in the hall closet, and was terrified when a loud thud sounded from within it) were growing smaller, and the stacks of to-sell boxes in his living room were growing larger. He'd even put all of his clothes away, <em>and<em> put his toiletries in his bathroom. If one good thing came of having creepy-insanely-hot-stalker neighbors, it was that they motivated him to remain focused on the task at hand. For once in his life, Cloud Strife wasn't being a complete lazy ass.

He could hear music blaring from the next house over. For the fourth day in a row.

He didn't collect the mail. For five days. He didn't even open his front door or any of the windows. Meals consisted of ramen in a cup that he'd packed for himself, and he ate them on the floor at the end of the hallway—because really, it'd be just his luck for one of them to show up on his back deck, and bang on the window, while he was eating. And then he'd probably choke on his fork and _die_.

Something in the back of his mind was punching him in the face, calling him an idiot and saying that he was possibly just-_maybe_-a-bit-too-much paranoid.

But then he chanced a glance outside, and saw Genesis sitting in the next yard over, reading a book. He was almost positive the man was actually just waiting for him to leave his house. Because honestly, Cloud Strife was _not_ paranoid. He had grown out of that phase _years_ ago. Two years, to be exact.

Halfway through his sixth day of refusing to leave the house, a knock sounded on the door. After quadruple-checking (because triple-checking _clearly_ was not enough) that it wasn't his creeper neighbors, he opened the door. A little hunched over old lady stood on his front step, holding a cane, and a grin that _probably_ could have beaten out the creeper-grin Genesis had given him six days prior. Behind her were two more old ladies, and a really cranky looking old man. And they all had these weird little rat-dogs—he was sure they were dogs because one yipped at him.

"Hello." He said, frowning as the nearest rat-dog piddled on his front step. "Can I help you?"

"Well!" the old lady shrieked in a voice that really went right through Cloud. He winced. "I'm Mrs. Lockhart! This here," She waved at the cranky old man. "Is Mr. Lockhart! And that over there is Eunice and Ethel! They're twins, y'know."

"I ain't her twin!" Eunice screeched, pointing a bony finger at Ethel.

Ethel hit her with her purse, and their rat-dogs growled at each other.

Dear God, Cloud lived in a neighborhood full of half-deaf old women, and insanely hot men that were quite possibly stalking him. And apparently blasted their music 24/7, he noted, as the bass shook his front step. His elderly neighbors didn't seem to notice.

"Cloud Strife. Nice to meet you." he replied politely, offering his hand.

Mrs. Lockhart frowned down at it, then gave Cloud yet another toothless grin. "We just came over to welcome you to the neighborhood is all. Best be on our way!" she yelled into his face.

They turned and tottered down his pathway, effectively ending any conversation they had going and leaving Cloud awkwardly holding out his hand with old lady spit covering his face. Another rat-dog tinkled on his mailbox, and the group walked across the street.

An ominous ringing sounded in his ears, and he wondered if deafness was somehow contagious.

Giving another quick glance around his front yard, he stepped back and swung the door shut, locking it. A week in his new house, and he really, really wanted to go home. As he picked up another box from the kitchen and headed back down the hall, he briefly entertained the idea of landing himself in the hospital so his parents would reconsider letting him move back home. Unfortunately, the only way to do that would be to get hurt. Cloud had a very low threshold of pain tolerance. Plan foiled.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Cloud was ready to have a yard sale. His bedroom now <em>looked<em> like a bedroom; his bed was neatly made (and not slept in), his closet and dresser were full of his clothes, his shoes were thrown haphazardly on the floor, and his alarm clock was on his nightstand. Towels were stacked oh-so-neatly on his bathroom counter, a shower curtain was put up, and a rug was put down in front of it. He even cleared out the office, set up his desk, and put his laptop on it.

And, quite possibly the best part of it all, Cloud had found his blinds. He put them all up as soon as he did, and put a nice little curtain over his sliding door. Walking around his house was suddenly a lot more comfortable, and a lot less "somebody is watching me, holy shit". He ate breakfast in his kitchen at the table—like a _normal_ person—and generally felt very accomplished with himself.

But now, at nine o'clock in the morning, he was staring at a neat little stack of fliers sitting on his kitchen counter that he had put together and printed out the night before. He was not happy.

Why?

Because Cloud Strife had just realized that in order to have a yard sale, he would have to go out, put fliers up, come back, hang around his house, and then go back out the next morning.

That would leave him vulnerable to his neighbors. _Twice_.

He glared at the fliers, silently demanding they go hang themselves up. They just sat there. After all, papers were incapable of being pinned to telephone poles on their own.

Sighing, he picked up the stack, grabbed his car keys off of the counter, and headed for his front door. He peeked out the window next to the door. No neighbors. Carefully and quietly, he opened his only form of protection from the creeps and stepped outside. Just as carefully and quietly, he closed it, and tiptoed to his car in the driveway. He slid the key into the door's lock, turned it, opened it, and slid inside.

And then he stared at the door, because it really wouldn't be possible for him to close the car door without making some sort of noise.

And so, Cloud Strife decided the faster he went, the better. He started the car, slammed the door shut, locked the doors, and was out of his driveway just in time to see Zack bounding out the neighboring house.

He triumphantly cranked up the music on the radio and stepped on the gas. Throughout the process of hanging fliers for his yard sale, Cloud realized that he may have been just a _little_ paranoid. Four times, he could have _sworn_ he'd seen Sephiroth. Twice, he thought he had seen Genesis. And he was _almost_ positive he'd heard Angeal call his name once.

He wondered if he should try that number for the psychiatrist his dad had given him.

As he drove past his neighbor's house, he noticed the lack of cars in the driveway and gave a little cheer; he could finally get his mail before his mailbox exploded! He turned off the engine, stepped out of his car, and nearly _skipped_ to the little box in glee, taking care not to touch the base of it. Considering a rat-dog had _peed_ on it. Mail under his arm, he whistled to himself and walked up his front walk, stepped into his house, and tossed the mail on his living room couch.

And then froze, because he could have _sworn_ he'd locked his door on the way out.

He stood in his living room, staring at the door in wide-eyed panic as he struggled to remember whether or not he'd locked it. He repeated the motions he'd made that morning several times before he forced himself to believe he'd forgotten to lock it.

He also felt like a complete moron, because one of his freakish neighbors could have just waltzed into his house and—

_There was another plate of cookies on his kitchen table_.

He ignored the cookies, ran into the living room, and locked his door. He then proceeded to tear his nice, neat little home apart in an attempt to find any other traces of those—those _creeps_—in _his house_. After the third time of checking the hall closet, he confirmed that they were not still inside, and forced himself to relax.

But dear God, they had been _inside_ his _house_.

Cloud had a restless sleep that night; every creak or gust of wind sent him into a frenzied panic. He never noticed the note that had fallen off of his table.

* * *

><p>The day of his yard sale, Cloud woke up extra early, moved his car into his little garage, and piled his boxes in his driveway. He made himself breakfast—ramen, once again—puttered around a little bit more, then brought some more boxes out, humming to himself.<p>

"What are you doing?"

He dropped the box he was carrying—and thankfully, this time it wasn't something breakable—and turned around slowly. Sephiroth was standing at the end of his driveway, silver hair hanging loose and glasses perched on his nose, in a pair of baggy jeans and a black button-up. Eating a banana. If Cloud hadn't been so creeped out, he may have had some giggle-worthy thought cross his mind. He was more concerned with why Sephiroth was standing at the end of his driveway at _seven in the morning_, though.

"Uh…" he started, looking around his box-littered driveway. "H-Having a yard sale?"

"Oh." Sephiroth replied, taking another bite out of his fruit. He invited himself into the driveway and peeked into a few boxes, then frowned at the blonde. "Are you selling any CDs?"

Cloud shook his head quickly, and the frown deepened. "Sorry."

The silver-haired man sighed, finished his banana, and tossed the peel over the fence onto his own driveway. "Angeal won't let me buy anymore. Asshole."

The blonde blinked. And then blinked again. And then stared. Sephiroth almost sounded _normal_—almost. "Uh… why?" he asked, rummaging through his garage until he found one of the little camping chairs he'd brought from home.

"He says my taste in music sucks." Sephiroth replied, shrugging. He poked through another box, then gave Cloud a pleading look. "Can I hang out here today?"

Cloud dropped the camp chair and stared at his neighbor with wide eyes. He fumbled with the chair, then set it up and dropped down into it. "I… guess? I'm just selling shit, though." he said, shrugging his own slim shoulders. "Chair's in the garage if you want one."

Sephiroth shrugged again, and gave a small smile. "Cool." he replied as he walked past Cloud into the garage.

Sure, the blonde was cool on the outside, but on the inside, he was panicking—if he let one creeper-neighbor stay, would the rest show up? He really hoped not. Sephiroth really _did_ seem normal compared to the others, and as he set up the chair next to him and sank down, Cloud decided that maybe only three of his four neighbors were a bit off their rockers.

"So…" Cloud started; he completely sucked at making conversation. He looked around his driveway, and then remembered the only conversation he'd ever had with his silver-haired neighbor. "You like Metallica?"

Sephiroth nodded, propping his elbow up on the cloth arm of the chair and leaning his cheek against his fist. He pinned Cloud with a curious look. "Are you from Juno? You said you bought that CD there."

"Yeah."

"That's cool." the silver-haired man replied, smiling again.

Cloud smiled back. At least _one_ of his neighbors wasn't all bad—and was most definitely _very_ hot. They spent their morning shooting questions back and forth, stopping only when Cloud discussed prices with someone, and by noontime, there was still no sign of his other three creeper-neighbors, and he and Sephiroth were sharing stories with each other. It felt like they were old friends, and the blonde was quite enjoying his company. He learned a few interesting things about the man; he hated books, he hated his glasses, he hated the little old ladies across the street—in fact, Sephiroth hated a _lot_ of things. But he claimed to love music, swimming, and flat out told Cloud he was gay. He, in turn, had replied with "Yeah, so am I". Personally, Cloud adored the glasses, couldn't live without music, and love to read.

They got along great. Got off on the wrong foot, yes. Got back on the right foot? Definitely.

And then it happened.

A head full of black spikes bounced along the fence line, and Cloud had the urge to run to his house and never leave it again. In slow motion brought on by the blonde's rising panic, Zack stepped around the fence, waved his arms crazily at Sephiroth, then charged up the driveway.

And _kissed Sephiroth_.

On the _lips_.

And Sephiroth _kissed him back_.

Cloud sat there, dumbfounded, and he was pretty sure his jaw was touching the pavement. "U-Uh, you two are…?"

"Four." Sephiroth corrected, kissing Zack on the cheek as he settled down on the silver-haired man's lap.

Zack rubbed the back of his head and smiled at Cloud. "Uh, hey… About the other day—I didn't mean to seem like some super creep or something. Genesis was just trying to kill me again, and then I realized Seph wasn't lying about the lipring, and I've never seen one before—you know, they're actually pretty cool. I kind of want one myself, but Angeal says—"

"It's fine." Cloud cut him off, picking his jaw up from the ground. His neighbors were _gay_.

All _four_ of them. _Together_.

He frowned; if they were together, why were they _stalking_ him? Narrowed blue eyes turned on the pair, and Cloud shook his head slowly. "Then _why_ were you guys stalking me?"

"Stalking you?" Sephiroth repeated dumbly, blinking in surprise. He looked at Zack, who shrugged, then back at Cloud.

"Genesis showed up when I went to get my mail!" Cloud exclaimed, gesturing towards his little red mailbox. "And then I went out to put up fliers, I was positive I saw _all _of you."

Sephiroth snorted out a laugh, and Zack whacked him upside the head. He climbed off of the man's lap and violet eyes met Cloud's bright blue, confused gaze; Zack laughed lightly. "Genesis was giving you a 'welcome to the neighborhood' card. Mrs. Lockhart—have you met her yet? She kind of weird. Anyways, she always makes everyone give them to new neighbors." He explained, then cocked his head to the side. "Don't you read your mail?"

Cloud frowned; he had _not_ read his mail. Any of it. In fact, both piles were still exactly where they'd been tossed. "Well—Well, what about when I was putting up my fliers?" he demanded, crossing his arms.

Eunice from across the street edged closer to the group. She looked like she was eavesdropping, but since she was about three inches from Zack's elbow and staring straight at Cloud, she was clearly failing.

"Morning jog." Sephiroth deadpanned, irritated frown on his face. "Angeal makes us go on one every day. To 'stay in shape'."

"Oh." Cloud muttered, sinking back in his chair, and feeling very much like an asshole. He bolted into a standing position, and pointed at his house. Eunice followed his hand, an excited look on her face. "What about the cookies?"

"Cookies?" Zack repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes, _cookies_." The blonde snapped, putting his hands on his hips. "I came home from putting up fliers, and there was a plate of _cookies_ on my _kitchen table_."

Eunice let out a horse-laugh, throwing her head back and slapping her knee. Three pairs of eyes stared at her in surprise; the green pair hadn't even noticed she was there. She hacked up some phlegm, and laughed a little harder. Cloud was suddenly afraid his old half-deaf new neighbor was going to have a heart attack and die. In his driveway. And he didn't even know what was so funny.

Finally, she gasped for air, clutched her chest, and slapped Cloud on the shoulder so hard, he stumbled forward. "Sonny, _I_ left those cookies on your table!" she screamed, slapping him again and snorting. "Ain't you know how to read? I left you the note right there!"

He started to reply, then froze because striding up his driveway was none other than Angeal, and trailing behind him was that creepy redhead. Kisses were exchanged, Angeal greeted the old lady, and Genesis waved shyly at Cloud.

Eunice didn't even bat an eyelash when they kissed.

It finally dawned on him that he had indeed let paranoia rule his life in his new neighborhood; not only were his neighbors not stalking him, but they weren't even half bad. Genesis quietly introduced himself—a shock to Cloud, because he hadn't taken the redhead to be shy at all.

"So, uh…" Cloud started suddenly; Angeal and Eunice stopped talking, and five pairs of eyes turned on him. "You guys weren't… stalking me?"

And everyone laughed—including Genesis, who covered his mouth right away and blushed.

Cloud felt like the biggest fucking idiot to ever set foot on the planet. "S-Sorry." he murmured, looking away. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to meet Genesis' blue-green eyes.

"It's fine, kid." He spoke quietly, smiling. He glared at Eunice, who glared back for a moment, then tottered back down Cloud's driveway. Then he leaned closer, cupped his hand around Cloud's ear and whispered something. Something that made Cloud blush bright red, and drove Zack into a curious frenzy.

"Oh my _God_!" the raven-haired teen squealed when Genesis pulled away with a blush of his own. "What the fuck did he say?"

"Nothing!" Cloud yelped, eyes wide.

Genesis chuckled to himself and shrugged. "I told him he's cute."

Three pairs of eyes settled on Cloud this time, and he shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. After a long, quiet moment, Angeal tilted his head and rubbed his chin. "You know, you're kind of right."

"Yeah, I can totally see it." Zack agreed, bouncing on his heels.

Sephiroth shrugged lazily and sighed. "I told you all that _exact_ same thing _last week_."

Cloud gaped at Sephiroth; _he_ had called the blonde _cute_? "You—"

"Well, yeah." The silver-haired man cut him off, cocking an eyebrow.

"But you said my name was stupid!"

"So?" Sephiroth retorted, then jabbed a thumb at his own chest. "_My_ name's stupid."

And so Cloud Arius Strife stood in his driveway, blushing madly because four half-strangers (only half because he _did_ live next door to them, and had held some resemblance to a conversation with each one) had just called him "cute".

His own mother didn't even call him that. In fact, she called him a lazy good-for-nothing and told him to get rid of his lipring because it was disgusting.

"Hey," Angeal suddenly piped up. "Want to eat at our place tonight? Maybe watch a movie?"

"Like, a date?" Cloud blurted, then snapped his mouth shut. That was certainly a good way to ensure his neighbors didn't think he was weird.

"Duh." Sephiroth snorted, rolling his eyes.

Expectant eyes watched him, and he bit his lower lip. Did he _really_ want to go on a date with four guys? Four hot guys? Of which one was massively shy, one was obsessed with music, another was hyperactive, and the last was apparently a mother-wannabe?

The answer was yes. Yes he did.

"Y-Yeah. Sure."

And then Zack lunged at him, hugged him, and kissed him on the lips. And Cloud let out a surprised squeak, because his new neighbor was kissing him on the lips, and he'd never kissed anyone aside from his own mother. Angeal whacked the raven-haired teen upside the head, and the kiss ended—

Only to be followed immediately by a peck on the forehead from Angeal.

Oddly enough, it didn't really surprise him when Genesis kissed him on the cheek, and Sephiroth dragged him down to his height (because really, Sephiroth was just too damn lazy for his own good) and kissed him on the lips as well.

Cloud beamed at them. They smiled right back.

As he sank back into his little camp chair and told his other three neighbors where the chairs were, he decided that maybe his new neighborhood wasn't half-bad. His neighbors were hot, though a little on the weird side. The people were nice, the weather was nice, he was making money selling shit he never used or needed, and Angeal made some damn good cookies. It was even peaceful.

And then Eunice was screaming at the top of her lungs about how she didn't have a twin sister, and Mrs. Lockhart needed to get her head checked because she was clearly loopy. Little old Ethel stood less than two feet from the both of them, and shrieked at Eunice that she did _so_ have a sister, and if their mother had still been alive, she would have slapped her daughter upside the head for such a comment. And apparently, Eunice was unaware her mother had passed away, and suddenly yelled "Ma's _dead_?".

Okay, so maybe the neighborhood wasn't that peaceful.

But he could deal with that.

* * *

><p><strong>I LOVE EUNICE. If I had a neighbor like Eunice, I think my life would be complete.<strong>

**ALSO, this is the longest fic I've ever written. I'm so proud of myself. And it's ASGZC, even. ; A;**

**Oh, and before I forget... I totally just kind of made up Cloud's middle name.**

**Did you read it all? Like it? Revieeeew? 8D**

**Thank you so much for reading~**


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